


What Does It Take To Be Useful

by nowjkjkjklololol



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reverse Falls (Gravity Falls), Demons, F/M, Gravity Falls - Freeform, M/M, Multi, Other, Post-Weirdmageddon, Reverse Bill Cipher/Dipper Pines, Reverse Dipper Pines, Reverse Mabel Pines, Reverse Pines, Telepathy, Torture, Violence, for real, mabel and Mason are not nice people, super dark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:08:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25560355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nowjkjkjklololol/pseuds/nowjkjkjklololol
Summary: The Gleeful twins yearn for more power, above what they naturally possess and what they have stolen from a captive demon.Dipper and his family are threatened by a possible reunion with a yellow triangular demon from their past.This may be one thing Dipper can’t manage to save the world from, no matter who he has at his back this time around...
Comments: 6
Kudos: 34





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is the super dark, super fucked up Reverse Falls fic no one asked for or wanted but I felt compelled to write anyway! This is not going to be a nice ride ahead, everyone, let me say that now. 😅😬

When the Gleeful twins were only twelve years old, a tragic series of events would change their lives forever. Their parents were killed in a terrible fire that had consumed their entire home before the first responders even made it there. The only relative who was willing and able to provide a new, permanent home for the two children was their great-uncle, Stanford Gleeful. He was a successful businessman, running a traveling theme park and circus, but once the twins were set to be coming to him, he returned to his permanent residence in a small town known as Gravity Falls to inhabit his expansive mansion with them.

He ignored the worried yet deeply relieved looks on the faces of social workers and lawyers asking if he was _sure_ he knew what he was getting into. He disregarded the whispers running through his family who had all been ‘unable’ to take the twins, whispers about the parents angering the children, about the fire being intentionally set, about how the twins were scary and intimidating despite their age. Stanford Gleeful was always looking for his next opportunity to grow his fortune, and those kids could be just what he needed to push himself further.

He signed all the papers brought to him, gave tours of his home to show he was more than equipped to house and care for the children, and then there they were, on his doorstep. They were introduced by a timid social worker as Mason and Mabel Gleeful.

The twins were both brunette, with piercing aqua eyes. Mason had his hair swept back neatly, revealing a birthmark on his forehead, while Mabel had her long, lush locks tucked back from her face with a narrow headband, and they were both looking down. They were neat and silent, but when their names were given they both looked up in unison to meet the stare of their Great-Uncle. His eyes scanned their calm, expressionless faces and he could immediately see why weak fools would be intimidated by them. However, for what he wanted, they were perfect. 

“Welcome home, you two. Come on in, we have much to discuss.” The twins exchanged a look, then stepped forward into the mansion behind the man, leaving the social worker to close the doors before quickly fleeing from the property.

So the twins began working with their Great-Uncle. Under his direction and management, they set up the Tent of Telepathy, and began performing magic shows that had first the town, and then the state, and now nearly the whole country talking about them. No one could figure out how they managed to do their tricks, despite them being featured on television shows and in front of packed crowds. 

The Gleeful family guarded their secrets closely.

Stanford had another passion, one that very few knew about and often contributed to his success. He had spent his lifetime collecting research and information on the unusual or paranormal, and he knew how to develop certain traits the twins were beginning to show into something that would be more powerful than even he could have anticipated. The twins shared a bond that he hypothesized could be developed into natural telepathy, and like most of his endeavors, he was soon proven to have been correct. He and the twins quickly created an act and began the foundation work on what would soon explode into an empire. Their talent was unbelievable, but Stanford was quickly consumed by greed as he watched their ballooning wealth. Luckily, he wasn’t the only one who wanted more.

The twins weren’t as focused on the money; they were happy to let their Grand-Uncle manage the business aspects so long as they always had more than enough money to cover anything they wanted. However, the twins reveled in the spotlight, in the power they commanded, in the adoring masses. They craved more of that power, and were determined to get it. Often Stanford appreciated his decision to become their caretaker, because he was now necessary and useful to them; as the twins aged, their cruelty and ferocity blossomed, and their enemies and rivals began having unfortunate, unexplainable accidents. He set boundaries and rules, but he seldom enforced any kind of consequence if they were broken. He didn’t want to find out what happened to those who crossed the pair firsthand. That was especially true after they turned thirteen.

The Gleeful twins, now known as the Mystery Twins onstage, met Will Cipher for the first time just a few weeks before their birthday. They’d continued the work their Great-Uncle had started and expounded upon it, beginning to keep their records in a blue-bound journal with a pine tree symbol emblazoned in silver on the front. They had been investigating a summoning spell for a demon that had been worshipped by a few long-forgotten civilizations, and had managed to call forth a small blue triangle with a single eye, a bow tie, and a top hat floating just above its peak. It eagerly introduced itself as Will Cipher and began chatting a mile a minute about how happy he was to be there and to meet them. For just as long as it took for Mabel to finish drawing the final glyph of a demon trap surrounding the area in which the little triangle had appeared. 

It was an ambush, set before the summoning had even begun.

Mabel was the one who negotiated, but Mason was ultimately the one who shook Will’s hand. He agreed to give over the majority of his demonic power to them in the form of two crystal ‘anchors’ and to be bound to serve their will so long as they lived, and in exchange they promised that when both of them died, Will could have their souls. The demon had no choice but to accept their ‘deal’...and the sinking feeling he had while his energy was being syphoned into two stones the twins carried turned into actual tears when Mabel gave a sinister giggle and clapped her hands together. 

“This is going wonderfully! The next page is the immortality spell, right?” 

After gaining Will’s powers, their show became so acclaimed that they were boosted to celebrity status. Not even their Great-Uncle Stanford could possibly spend the money fast enough. And still, the twins grew colder and crueler and remained dedicated to gaining more, becoming more, controlling more. The older they got, the more they found they could do and get away with to manage their twisted desires. 

The older they got, the more this trend continued. At eighteen, the pair had a new mansion built, huge and ostentatious, nearly a castle in its extravagance and elegance. They relocated, and Stanford found himself grateful that he would now only see them at shows and events, and would no longer have to sleep under the same roof as the pair.

—-

Dipper and Mabel had grown a lot since the summer before their thirteenth birthday and the events of Weirdmageddon. As agreed, they had returned home to their parents in California, but the second high school was over, things had changed drastically. Mabel had been accepted into an artsy university nearby, and Dipper raced back to a certain Gravity Falls to reclaim the previously offered position as apprentice. 

Dipper and his constantly-bickering Grunkles continued to seek out, battle, and record the world’s oddities. Their main focus, however, quickly searching for one Bill Cipher, who’d done his best to take over and destroy their entire universe his first summer in Gravity Falls. They had heard rumors during interdimensional travel that he’d somehow come back, and though they hadn’t heard or seen much real evidence, they still kept up a search in case he intended to come back and exploit the weaknesses in their dimension left over from Weirdmageddon. 

There was plenty to keep him occupied aside from the growing anxiety of Bill returning, and so Dipper focused on his work, happy to be back to adventuring in Gravity Falls once more. 

He had no idea how twisted things were going to get, nor how complicated his life was about to become.


	2. 1

“Oh Mabel, dear,” Mason called in a toneless voice as he pushed her dressing room door open without knocking. There was no point; he knew from the vicious glee coming from his link with her and the terror and pain screaming through his link with Will that she was torturing him in some way, surely ‘punishing’ him for some transgression. 

He found her seated across Will’s lap as the demon lay, bound and restrained by glowing chains of blue light that forced his limbs apart and to his sides. She was fully clothed in her stage costume, signifying to his relief that she did remember they had a show that was about to start, but the helpless mortal form that they had tricked Will Cipher into taking was shirtless and his pale skin revealed what looked like burn marks covering it. Then Mason noticed the handheld taser sparking in Mabel’s hand and the tears streaming from Will’s single remaining blue eye. Next to it was a triangular eyepatch, covering one of the more noticeable reminders of why no one ever got out of line with the Gleeful twins. Mason spared barely a glance for the whimpering, sobbing excuse for a demon before his eyes returned to his sister. 

“We go on in fifteen minutes. You may want to take some time to freshen up.” Mason looked pointedly at a single stray section of her otherwise pristine hair that had fallen out of place, and Mabel gave him an exaggerated pout.

“You love to steal my fun,” she accused teasingly, grinding her hips down against Will and causing a strangled sound to escape his pained grimace. Mason was almost curious as to how much she’d shocked him there. He shook his head with a long-suffering sigh and straightened the cuff of one of his sleeves. A devious smirk danced onto her lips, and she winked at her twin. “Do you want to help me finish up?” Her purr brought a new stream of tears from the demon below her, but Mason just shook his head.

“Not this time,” he responded politely before turning his cold stare to Will. “When she’s done and you’re made yourself presentable for the show, the crew needs your help setting up the large water tank. I’ve decided to make that the encore rather than the fire show tonight.” He shrugged at Mabel’s inquisitive look. “Some critics will be in attendance and I love the look on their faces when he’s in there for longer than any human could survive, and then when we teleport him out he coughs up all the water in his lungs.” Mason enjoyed her giggling as he turned to leave her dressing room, and the last thing he heard before the door closed was the crackle of electricity and a sob.

While his sister was prone to using Will to satiate a deep-seated desire for bloodshed and violence, Mason typically only issued a punishment when it was warranted...at least in his eyes. In either case, the demon’s ability to heal himself was extremely useful, and he was featured regularly in their shows. Audiences ate up violent actions that would kill any human only for the ‘assistant’ to walk away unscathed. And offstage, a victim that could constantly repair themselves meant that Mabel could exercise her bloodlust at home rather than Mason having to cover her tracks after a spree of murders. That had happened once or twice, and it was a headache, but he understood his sister. He had his own desires that ate away at him.

Back in his own dressing room, Mason went to his table and opened a hidden compartment which held their journal. He flipped to the most recent entries and read what was written there for the countless time.

When Will had turned out to be such a disappointment, the twins had begun to search for another, more powerful demon. They were confused; they kept returning to the drawings they had discovered in the caves, the one that had led them to Will. In one, the blue triangle demon was standing next to a jagged green circle, and in the other side, the reflection or whatever it was supposed to be was golden. The figures worshipped it as well. They’d asked Will before, but hadn’t received a meaningful answer...maybe he would be more responsive under a focused interrogation. 

Mason hummed tunelessly and closed his journal, then straightened his tie and the amulet with his power flowing within it. First, always first, was attending to his public. He headed to the stage early to oversee the setup.

The show itself went flawlessly. The twins were masters of their craft; every trick was carried out with perfect execution. When Will collapsed onto the dry stage and choked up the water he’d been drowning in, the audience went wild, and the twins created magical firework explosions as the curtain swung closed.

“Another lovely performance, brother of mine,” Mabel hummed enthusiastically, smoothing down her hair as she strode to his side. “You were perfect, as always.” Mason could tell she was wound up, so he decided to call dibs as it were.

“Thank you, you were flawless yourself. I’m going to need Will this evening, I’d like to discuss our work with him again. Do you need anything from him before he and I return home?” They both knew what was being offered without the need for even telepathic communication to be exchanged; this was a routine occurrence. 

While the twins were masters of their magical abilities, they preferred for the demon to drain his own reserves on most tasks rather than diminish their reserve unless necessary. Especially after a show, when their jewels were recovering from the drain of the show, they would have him do the work. And if Will was going to be occupied that evening, Mabel would probably want to bring someone else home to work out her energy. 

His sister scanned the leaving crowd as Mason mentally called Will to his side, and just as he appeared there Mabel pointed at an attractive young male tourist.

“That one. You know the drill,” she commanded dismissively, going to gather her things so they could depart for home. Will bowed his head, not needing to be told what to do. He would erase the target from the mind of anyone they had come here with, and then the victim would be made to accompany them back, willingly or otherwise. They almost never were heard from again, unless Mabel took a particular liking to one and wiped their memory before sending them back home. 

It took less than five minutes for Will have the blankly obedient human with them and to then transport all four of them to the Gleeful twins’ estate. It was so draining after everything that Mabel and the show and the effort of fighting off physical death during the finale had taken from him that he collapsed into a kneeling position once they’d all made it, painfully weak. A small, rare smile graced Mason’s usually stoic face; perfect. Their pathetic demon would be begging before he’d even started. 

Mason said a gracious goodnight to his sister and her... _guest_...before motioning for Will to follow him with a curt nod. He strode forward and towards the part of the manor that housed his suite, listening to the man behind him scrambling to his feet and hurrying to catch up. He kept silent, listening to Will’s thoughts frantically struggle to figure out what he had done to deserve Mason’s wrath. The fear was a heady thing, and Mason savored it. Once they had entered his personal suite, Mason touched his amulet and the door closed and locked behind them, and Will jumped at the sound. There really was no point, Will knew better than to run, but the tension it built in the room was delicious.

Mason stepped up to his dressing area and the expanse of mirrors and watched Will stumble to his side. Mason never took his eyes off the reflection of the small demon working quickly but efficiently to unfasten and remove his cape. Once that was set aside, Will removed his tie and amulet, and Mason let him; he had more than enough of his own magical reserves to take care of the demon’s interrogation without it. When he approached again, Mason waved him off to stand to the side while the brunette magician began to unfasten his vest and finally spoke.

“Cipher,” he started smoothly, enjoying how Will jumped at the sound of his own name. “I want to discuss some of my research with you.” Mason shrugged out of his vest and held it out uncaringly towards the now very apprehensive Will, who took it and went to hang it up.

“How may I be of assistance?” he said softly, voice weak. Mason unbuttoned the cuffs of his pristine shirt and began rolling the sleeves to his elbows; he didn’t like to get messy. Will recognized the gesture for what it was, face going pale, and the humor Mason felt as he sensed the demon panic and struggle to figure out _why_ almost made him chuckle.

“Come and look at this,” Mason instead ordered in a placid monotone, strolling over to the workspace on the other side of his living area as he summoned his journal. It floated in front of him, surrounded by the faint blue glow of his magic, it’s pages turning to the drawing he wanted to discuss. He noticed Will’s breathing catch for a second when it settled on the crudely sketched triangles as he approached.

“When we spoke last about this drawing, we concluded that this was a depiction of you.” Mason let a finger hover over the blue triangle, and Will nodded jerkily. “Is there anything else you’d like to add? Any knowledge you forgot to share with me at the time?” He left his finger drift over the golden triangle so casually it could almost have been accidentally, but he saw Will’s hands begin to tremble. He’d figured out what this was about.

“N-no, Sir. I don’t have any new information.” Mason arched an eyebrow. The choice of words had given Will away. The human’s lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smile as he turned away from the hovering book and took a purposeful step towards the demon, eyes glinting when Will shrank away from him. 

“Are you quite certain, Cipher?” Another deliberate step forward made Will trip over himself to move back enough to keep him from accidentally bumping into the brunette. “There’s a limit to my graciousness, and while I might overlook a previous oversight, I will not accept intentionally concealing the truth.” One more step and he watched Will cower when his back hit the stone wall.

“I- I- I- I don’t know...” the demon stammered and then fell silent as Mason smirked widely at him. He rested one of his palms against the wall close to where Will was huddled, caging the smaller figure on one side between himself and the stone at its back.

“Maybe the trouble is on my end,” Mason hummed, leaning down over Will and bringing their faces closer. He used the tips of his fingers to trail down the side of Will’s face, a mockingly gentle caress that continued down his jaw and over the pulse hammering in his throat. “Maybe I’m asking the wrong questions.” Suddenly, his hand turned hard, fingers clenching around the little demon’s neck tight enough to force him to struggle for breath. Mason shoved him back, forcing his shoulders and skull to connect painfully with the wall. Tears began streaming from Will’s eye and he gasped out half-formed pleas.

“Nn-no...Master p-please...” Mason held him there for another second before releasing him and letting him sag against the stone. Will’s relief lasted only a fraction of a second before Mason made a gesture in the air and glowing chains of blue light formed around his wrists and dragged the demon’s arms tight against the wall on either side of his shoulders.

Mason stepped back, turning away from where Will was bound and drifting over to his desk. He had a lovely silver blade there, one of a matching set he and his sister shared. He took his time, inspecting the blade and stroking the edge, before he faced the terrified Will again.

“Cipher,” he drawled, nearing the demon at a slow, seemingly uncaring pace, “who is in that picture?” Will swallowed hard and spoke in a shaking voice, pressing himself as close to the wall as he could. 

“M- me.” Mason took another step forward, now toe to toe with the demon. He twirled the tip of his knife, clearly indicating that Will should continue. Will closed his eye and shook like he’d already been beaten. “The people?” he whispered, voice cracking over the answer that sounded like a question. Mason let the tip of his knife rest on Will’s slightly fuller lower lip, resting its weight but not breaking the delicate skin there. Yet.

“Why is that triangle yellow, Cipher?” Will whimpered, and Mason took a moment to admire how nice of a picture the demon made in that moment. His two-toned hair, a usually tidy divide of black and pastel blue, was disheveled and hung in his face. His eye was wide with fear and shone with unshed tears. His lip trembled under the unyielding metal. Helpless, hopeless, terrified. 

Mason’s hand was gentle as he pressed the blade just a little harder and soft skin split, blood quickly dripping from Will’s lip down to his chin. A whimper escaped the restrained demon.

“M-master, I truly d-dont know who-“ Will’s words were choked off by a yelp and then a pained groan as Mason, lightning-fast, pulled the knife back and then slashed him in the side through his dress shirt. A rapid red stain bloomed across the material, and a single, desperate sob escaped the demon. _’Please,’_ he heard Will crying in his head. It was satisfying, the absolute power, and _that_ was what it was he craved the most.

“You know, Cipher, every time you speak, I feel like it’s just words twisted to hide the details I want to hear.” He set the knife down in midair, a blue glow surrounding it as he let go. Mason slid his hand onto Will’s hip in a gesture that would have been seductive had it not been directly onto the open wound in his side. The demon flinched reflexively at the touch, and Mason ‘tsk’ed at him. “Wouldn’t you prefer we just have a nice, _pleasant_ conversation instead of us having to get so...messy?” He punctuated his inflection by gripping Will tightly, possessively, and digging his fingertips into the gash in the process. Will howled and thrashed against the chains holding him in place, unable to keep himself still, before Mason pushed away from him. 

“Why do you imagine the creators of this work would have drawn what they did?” Mason sounded like some professor of art trying to coax an answer from a classroom rather than a psychotic telepath in the middle of torturing someone for information. Will shook, legs trembling so violently it seemed they might give out at any moment. Mason rolled his eyes and made another gesture, and Will’s restraints shifted, pulling his wrists together and above his head, dragging him upwards until he was forced to balance on the balls of his feet to keep from being suspended by his arms alone. 

“Master- Sir, please, I- I’ve never under any circumstance...turned yellow, or-“ Mason grabbed his knife from where it was levitating, and the used it to cut the buttons off the demon’s shirt one by one as he desperately tried to stop the brunette’s hand. “N-n-no wait, _please,_ I-“

“You’re not talking fast enough,” Mason purred, using the tip of his knife to pull aside the demon’s ruined shirt and leaving a bloody line on the pale skin it exposed. 

“S-so I don’t know who or what th-that one is, but- noooo,” the demon moaned desperately as Mason began using the knife to idly cut into Will’s chest. The wounds were shallow, just enough to bleed freely, but the magician was more focused on their design; he was drawing he and his sister’s signature five-pointed star onto the smaller man’s chest.

“Keep going, Cipher. I’m getting bored of hearing things I already know,” Mason drawled, digging his knife in a fraction deeper at his words and causing Will to jerk beneath him.

“The portal! I-I-I-it’s a portal,” Will sobbed as Mason began to go over the cuts a second time. His blade paused just before making contact again, and the demon broke down, rushing to get words out fast enough. “Not sure, it’s just a g-guess, but it c-could be an intentional interdimensional portal.” The knife drew back as Mason tapped his chin, deep in thought. 

“So there’s another, _different_ version of you out there?” Mason mused, eyes scanning over the captive demon intrusively as he imagined the possibilities. If they could harness this much energy from such a useless form as Will, what could they gain from a stronger and more powerful version? His mind was racing as he absently reached his hand out to pet through Will’s hair. The demon shuddered under the unexpectedly gentle gesture, panting lightly as blood dripped slowly down his chest. 

Will was weak, pathetic; it was no wonder he and his sister couldn’t get all that they were seeking from such a subpar specimen. What if there was a version of Will not so easily tricked, cunning and confident with powers beyond imagination? What if there was a version who had similar goals and ambitions as the twins, who would eagerly help them unlock and obtain absolute cosmic dominion? The idea was intensely appealing...and arousing. He felt his body reacting to the heady visions his mind created.

It was far less frequent that Mason chose to use Will’s body for pleasure; usually Mabel was the one who got off on abusing the demon’s mortal form. As the notion of having the universe under his heel filled Mason’s mind and he felt a need form in his body, though, the brunette decided that today would be one of his exceptions.

“So, Cipher, tell me,” Mason purred, setting the knife aside and pressing himself against the tethered demon, “would you be able to open a portal like that?” He traced a fingertip over the wounds his knife had left behind, even as he shifted his position to put one of his thighs between Will’s legs. More tears escaped Will as he looked up at Mason, bit his lip, and nodded.

“I-I couldn’t...it wouldn’t be b-big, or last v-very long...I’d need more power-“ Will fell silent as Mason licked up the side of his neck, stopping to ghost his lips along the demon’s trembling jaw.

“Tell me about the world when I rule it,” Mason hummed, words fanning his breath over Will’s cheek and lips. The demon looked absolutely sickened. 

“Y-you, it- I mean, I- nghh,” Will groaned when the brunette bit him, hard enough to draw blood even with blunt human teeth. His body shook, and Mason slid rough hands up the demon’s sides and to his arms where the muscles strained to support his weight. “You- you’ll be a fearsome leader,” Will whispered, words hollow and tinged with defeat. “Reality itself w-will bow before you.”

In one swift motion, Mason stepped back a half step and snapped his fingers; the shackles keeping Will’s arms above his head disappeared without warning, leaving the demon to crumple to the ground in a crying heap. Mason bent at the waist, reaching down to pet Will’s hair again and wind his fingers through the powder blue locks, damp with sweat.

“On your knees. Keep talking,” Mason ordered, hand suddenly gripping hair tightly and dragging Will up until he managed to get his legs underneath him. The demon had yelped in pain at first, but quickly got his mouth working to appease the man above him.

“You will be a g-god, lord over all...existence y-your plaything.” A breath hissed from between the demon’s suddenly clenched teeth as his arms were pulled tightly behind him and bound together painfully with more glowing restraints. “Humanity will wage wars j-just to earn your f-favor.” Mason sighed, a pleased breath of air that followed Will’s last quiet word, and he relaxed his grip on the demon’s hair slightly.

“Ah, Cipher. Just think of all the things I’ll be able to do.” Mason used his free hand to unbutton and push aside his trousers unhurriedly, almost as if he wasn’t really even thinking about the action. Will shook in his grip, flinching as far away from Mason as he could with the hand still wound into his hair. “Just imagine how they’ll all fear me.” The fist in his hair twisted violently, clenching tightly once again as he forced Will’s head lower, closer, and the smaller man silently sobbed. “Won’t I make a wonderful god?” Mason smiled then, and he was devastatingly handsome as he let his eyes slip closed and pushed himself leisurely into Will’s resisting mouth. He didn’t look at the demon after that.

Will understood from that point forward that it no longer truly mattered if he was present or not. Mason Gleeful could just as easily be using his own hand, for all the care or notice he paid to the demon. The warm, wet mouth was simply a means to end as he entertained himself with the thoughts of domination his forming plan had given him. He drew it out, either completely ignoring or completely oblivious to when his thrusts choked the demon beneath him, or when Will cried out after a particularly sharp yank on his hair. He kept his eyes closed, kept his serene smile, and kept his hands on Will’s head, holding him in place as well. He took his time, and when his thrusts finally began to grow more erratic and Will began to finally hope that the magician would finish with him soon, Mason lazily waved his hand and his knife drifted over until its point was resting against Will’s back. The brunette still did not spare him even a brief look.

“Scream,” Mason purred, eyes unfocused and staring unseeingly ahead, then groaned in satisfaction as his knife began to press forward and Will obeyed involuntarily. Vibrations coursed through him as he buried himself to the hilt in the demon’s throat. 

When he’d finished with Will, he extracted his body from the proximity of the bleeding, sobbing mess gracefully. In one wave, he vanished both the glowing chains and his knife from where it was buried in Will’s back. The demon slumped forward pitifully, blood now falling rapidly from the exposed wound, and whimpered. Mason rolled his eyes. 

“Clean off and heal yourself, then report to Mabel. I’m sure she’ll be happy to know I’m letting you out sooner than I’d expected.” Mason turned and strode from his room, heading towards their study and library to begin new research, not even feeling the need to stay and watch as his orders were carried out. He knew they would be.

All he wanted to focus on now was how to obtain the wonderful fantasy he’d just developed. He could almost taste it, and it was already consuming him.


	3. 2

Dipper slammed to the ground, feeling all his breath exit his lungs in a huge whoosh. He forced himself to roll, muscles clenching and lungs burning, just as a huge, clawed foot gouged the earth where he’d just been lying. 

“Great job, Dipper!” his Grunkle Ford called as a serpentine body hit the ground next, and the dragon-like creature landed awkwardly in the small clearing. He and his twin brother, Stanley Pines, were on either side of the space, holding a large net crackling with energy. 

“Now just don’t die!” Dipper’s Grunkle Stan called, tugging his side of the net higher. In a practiced move, the older two ran forward, dragging the net over the creature while it was focused on Dipper as a potential next meal. Once the three had restrained and contained the creature, Dipper wrote in their journal while the original author called out some noteworthy observations.

“This one’s about eight feet long, seems fairly young, I’d guess they could grow to be at least twice this size,” Ford murmured gruffly, circling the beast’s temporary enclosure. “Red and purple coloring, fire-breathing, fast flier.” Dipper nodded, then chewed on the end of his pen as he thought. 

“Weakness is a love for human barbecue?” he joked, and Stan laughed from where he was beginning to load the enclosure onto a trailer.

“Good one, kid. You sure we can’t keep this one for the shack?” Stan called to his brother, who let out a huff.

“For the last time, Stanley, no attractions that eat humans. Remember what happened last time when Soos tried to pet the manticore?” Stan rolled his eyes and huffed while Dipper laughed, reminiscing happily now that he was no longer in the position of trying to wrestle their latest ‘feature’ exhibit back into its cage. 

Once they had driven home and to the again-repaired and improved upon interdimensional portal they had used to rescue their Grunkle Ford, the Pines family jettisoned the dragon into a more suitable home and decided to call it a day. Stan went to go check in with Soos on how the Shack was running, Ford stayed down in the basement do do some work in private, and Dipper headed to his old room in the attic. 

He was stretched out in his bed, working on a sketch of the dragon they’d faced down that afternoon, but quickly felt himself growing drowsy after the day’s events. It was unusually sudden, but as he dropped his pen and let himself sag sideways onto his pillows, he assumed it was simply because he was...exhausted...

In his dream, Dipper found himself in a seemingly endless void of swirling black and purple darkness. It extended in every direction, an unbroken, eternal void in which he was all alone. Or so he thought.

_**’YOU.’** _

It was only a single word, a single syllable, and yet it carried unimaginable fury and hatred on a distorted, painfully recognizable voice.

“B-Bill?” Dipper called hesitantly, and a sharp laugh rang out.

_’You stupid Pine Tree. As soon as I can get my hands on you,’_ Bill’s resounding voice grew darker, demonic, as he growled, _’we’re going to have such fun.’_ Dipper swallowed hard, looking around desperately for the golden triangle. Another laugh, and Bill Cipher’s familiar voice sounded out again. _’Oh, I’m not there. You idiots successfully ripped me apart. I’m having to rebuild myself from all the minds of those who’ve worshipped me or struck a deal with me. But once I have my powers back, get ready, kid!”_ Bill’s laughter filled the void again, ringing endlessly in the space until Dipper’s mind slipped away to other dreams.

Upon waking, Dipper leapt out of bed and raced to find his Grunkle Ford already up and working in the lab, assuming he’d even stopped at all since the previous night.

“Grunkle Ford...Bill...” he panted, out of breath despite only having come down a few sets of stairs to get there. Ford leapt to his feet, as if the dream demon himself were going to float down those stairs any second, looking around.

“Where?” he shouted, and Dipper shook his head.

“My dream last night,” the brunette managed, and Ford visibly relaxed.

“Oh, well then...wouldn’t you prefer to call Mabel and tell her about it...?” he hedged, but Dipper shook his head again.

“You don’t understand. It wasn’t just a dream about Bill... I talked to him. He threatened me. It was real, I’m sure of it.” Ford raised an eyebrow skeptically, but walked towards his desk, tapping his chin thoughtfully. 

“It could be- well, what did he say?” Ford asked, curiosity clearly growing, and Dipper recounted everything he could remember from the void. When he finished, Ford looked deeply troubled. 

“If that really was Bill...I think we need to prioritize figuring out what to do if and when he comes back.” The pair headed back upstairs to have a discussion with the other inhabitants of the Mystery Shack, a heavy cloud of anxiety growing in the air.


	4. 3

Will was endlessly tired, endlessly drained, endlessly tortured. Will was broken, and regretted his overconfident and foolish attempt at a deal with the twins. It had been years or constant abuse and he was newly surprised by the depths of their cruelty almost every day.

Mabel was by far the worst.

With Mabel, suffering became an intricate art, and torture was a craft she honed to perfection. No matter what she did to him, she always had something new up her sleeve for later. Everything he did was subject to intense scrutiny, any misstep could lead to serious retribution. Sometimes she blatantly told him that he was suffering for no reason other than her pleasure. Even passing her in the hallway was enough to reduce him to tears some days.

It had been two days since the interrogation with Mason, and twelve hours since Mabel had locked him in her room. It had all started when a prop had been improperly placed on stage during a show and it had tripped Mabel up. It was a small thing that went completely unnoticed by the crowd, but _Mabel_ had certainly noticed. And saw Will as the party to blame.

That was twelve hours ago, though. His punishment for the part he played in the prop’s misplacement had long since been dealt. Ten hours ago, she’d forced a blindfold over his eyes and a gag in his mouth. At least eight hours ago, she’d left him naked, alone, and bound at the wrists and ankles to what he could only assume was her bed. Probably an hour ago, the silence and stillness was broken by someone coming in, the sting and rush of some sort of injection being given to him, and then the unknown party leaving again. Will had cried after they had left. And now...

His body was burning up; sweat covered every inch of him, matted his hair, made him feel the cooling air on over-sensitized skin. The meatsack he inhabited was faulty; it caused his mind to float hazily and his body to trigger uninstigated reflexes and his entire being to be taken over by urges no doubt stimulated by whatever he’d been injected with. What was _this_ torture? A fire blazed just beneath his skin and it made him desperate for any sort of contact. The feeling of the sheets he was laying on drove him mad; they touched only his back and he was too well-restrained to feel more, blinded so he could not even appreciate the sight of its texture. His head spun uncontrollably.

Then the door opened, and Will’s stomach dropped; _oh no, please, no-_ Mabel was back. When tears slid down his face, his skin ignited under their cool, wet trail. _Gods, if she touched him, he would die..._

“Well, look at you, Cipher. Tell me, is it just the drugs in your human body, or did you miss me while I was gone?” Mabel’s voice was loud after such a long silence; Will whimpered, knowing that no answer he could give would be the right one. The gag would have kept him from answering, anyway.

When she touched him, a single fingertip barely brushing up his stomach to his chest, a strangled cry was pulled from Will as his body spasmed under her hand. He could almost _hear_ her smile. 

“You’re going to make this one fun, I can tell already,” she cooed, and then she dug her perfectly manicured nails into Will’s chest. His jaw worked furiously against the gag as he thrashed and jerked; the pain in his overly sensitive nerves was excruciating. When she took her hand away, Will felt a violent shudder roll through him, and his exposed male genitals pulsed. The cold air cooling the burning marks left by Mabel’s nails stung. She had only _just_ started, and this was quickly becoming far more than he could handle.

Will whimpered softly, tears welling in his eye beneath the blindfold. His begging had never been much of a help, but it was a response to his terror, an attempt to gain leniency. Being kept from even pleading with her to stop made him feel so completely and totally...powerless. It was also somehow worse without being able to see how she reacted to his desperation.

Hands were on him, and his skin crawled and burned as Mabel stroked his sides. The bed shifted beneath him, and the hands supported her weight on his stomach, and then her legs were on either side of his hips. She was on top of him, and every place she made contact sent sparks of pain shooting through fried synapses. Mabel moved some part of herself against his erect and throbbing anatomy, and the demon’s head thrashed from side to side, trying to reject it. It _hurt,_ but underneath intense pain was the promise of relief, and that twisted in him worse than the physical agony. Mabel giggled.

“I love how much you hate this, little demon,” her words rubbed at him, the tone almost as invasive as her hands as they crawled their way across his body. She pet his cheek gently, running a finger through the tracks left by his tears, and Will shook when her hand moved to stroke down his neck. “What, not happy when I’m gentle with you?” Her hand vanished just a second before a blow struck him across the cheek. His shout was dulled by the gag; his face was a surging wave of pain in what was surely the shape of Mabel’s hand. 

A laugh, and then there was another sound Will could not place. It was a dull snap, not like elastic or fingers but like two flat, tough surfaces coming together. He strained his ears, trying to hear...whatever it was, it whipped down onto his stomach, lashing into him with a low thud and leaving behind a burning, tingling line. Though his muscles strained as he reflexively tried to reach for his wound, he was held tight and could only spasm uselessly. 

“It’s a belt. I see you trying to figure it out.” Mabel hummed, and Will could almost picture her tapping her chin in thought. “You know, you’re just so... _pathetic,_ Cipher.” The belt bit into him again, this time into his tensed shoulder and arm. The limb attempt to draw in, wrenching his wrist where it was kept in place, and he bit down on the gag to try to distract himself from what was happening. He couldn’t, though; his entire world was focused on the lines of pain striping his fevered skin. Another whimper left him, and another open-handed blow across the other side of his face followed it.

“Don’t you want to ask me to stop?” Mabel’s voice was dripping with feigned innocence. Will tried to nod, but her fingers dug into his chin as she held his face immobile, forcing his head back. “You never know, maybe _this_ time I’ll feel bad if you do.” She released his jaw and Will felt her breath on his face as she leaned down over him. “I don’t hear you saying ‘no,’ Will,” she murmured, and when he tried again to get some sort of audible sound out past the thing in his mouth, she chuckled and patted his cheek. 

The feeling of her sliding off of Will and away was both a blessed comfort and excruciating loss as his drugged body screamed out for contact while aching from what had been done already. Then she began laying into him with the belt, and he could think of nothing other than agony. He didn’t need to be able to see to know that she was overlapping the blows so that no scrap of skin was spared as she methodically worked her way down his chest and stomach. 

Dread clawed at him as her strokes with the belt got lower, lower, and then just before she struck him on his turgid manhood, she stopped and moved to his knees and began to work her way back up his body with the same ruthless precision. Will screamed uselessly until his throat was raw, his body spasmed and clenched and jerked with every touch of the belt. Until she laid it just high enough to graze his testicles as it beat down, and that was a sensation the demon wouldn’t have imagined in his worst nightmares.

His vision whited out as his body convulsed, and the sounds he made would have been inhuman and visceral even if they had been uninhibited. Nothing existed except his nerves burning, his body aching, his stomach clenching violently. It took him a moment to even register that the blows had stopped. When his muscles finally stopped their involuntary movements, a hand slid over his chest. 

“I’m going to take your gag out, and then you’re going to make that sound for me again,” Mabel promised, voice breathy. Tears poured from his eye and he frantically tried to shake his head as her nails scraped their way up his damaged body and to his face. _Please no, please, no nononono-_ Will’s desperate thoughts ended as abruptly as her touch did when the quiet click of a door opening interrupted them. He sobbed brokenly, still made to be silent.

“Mason, darling, you aren’t here to ruin my fun _again,_ are you?” Mabel pouted, and Will’s heart leapt in his chest. He would do anything for Mason to take him from this room, before that belt could come down on him a second time. He would take any form of punishment other than this gratefully. The subtle sound of the door closing made him twitch, as if he could somehow bring Mason back with a motion, but then he heard the magician’s voice even closer, approaching where he lay.

“Well, I _do_ need him at some point, I’d like to plan our trajectory and get things ready for tomorrow, but...I suppose it isn’t that urgent.” Despair choked at Will, and he was trembling in sheer terror before a hand smoothed his hair back, combing through it in a mockery of tenderness. Mabel sounded eager when she responded.

“Excellent. Are you going to stay? You’re just in time for the best part.” Her nails raked across his abdomen, and the pain was sharp like she had cut him. Mason’s hand didn’t leave his hair, and despite staying quiet, Will assumed he nodded because Mabel giggled again. The gag was ripped from his mouth sharply, and Will heard himself pleading for their mercy before he’d even realized it.

“Please, p-please, my m-m-masters, anything else, please _don’t_ -!” The tug on his hair to silence him sent a wave of sparks through his body, just on the wrong side of enjoyable, and then the belt came down. She’d positioned her lash even higher, and when it struck him...

A violent, animalistic shriek of terror and pain ripped through him, filling the room; his muscles tensed and locked, his stomach rolled. He screamed until he could no longer, and then his entire body slumped back against the bed, and he cried brokenly. He wanted to take comfort from the hand absently petting him, but even the gentle motion in his hair did nothing to stop or distract from his body’s continued, wretched suffering. 

“That was a pretty sound,” he heard Mason compliment Mabel, and then the petting stopped and instead blunt nails were dug into Will’s scalp. He mewled out a weak protest, and heard both twins laugh. “Are you finished with him?”

“Maybe one more,” Mabel sighed, voice sounding tragic. “The stuff I gave him will wear off soon, and then he won’t be near as much fun.” Mason’s hand moved, but Mabel’s nails digging into his thigh drew Will’s focus instead. He kept trying to beg them to stop, but his voice sounded ruined and he could barely get above a whisper. It would have been pointless; there was no stopping Mabel Gleeful.

The belt beat down on him again, and Will’s mouth shaped itself around a silent, agonized attempt at vocalizing some of his pain. He threw his head back as hard as he could, trying to force himself to experience anything other than what he was, but the bed was too soft. His nails bit into his own palms from how hard he clenched his fists, but even that could not hope to refocus his pain-shrouded mind. The belt fell onto his stomach, probably tossed there as Mabel finished having her ‘fun,’ and he flinched and spasmed at the contact.

“He’s all yours, brother dear,” Mabel cooed as her voice retreated, and the soft sounds of the door opening and then closing heralded her departure. There was a long moment of tense, pained stillness during which Will continued to cry hopelessly, and then suddenly one of his wrists was tugged minutely before the tension of the cuff holding it stretched out was gone. He gratefully curled the limb to his chest as the same treatment was given to his other wrist, and then both ankles. He was afraid to remove his blindfold without permission, but Will did take the liberty of curling in on himself, hoping that his knees to his chest would help with some of the ache between his legs. Before he could truly appreciate his unrestricted ability to move again, he felt cool fingers at the corner of his lips.

“Open your mouth,” Mason told him, sounding bored, and Will put up his hands as if he could fend off what was coming. He couldn’t even voice his desperation, but knew Mason could hear it anyways.

_’Please, no more, please please no, please-‘_ The brunette above him huffed as if annoyed, and pushed past Will’s lips heedlessly. He did nothing else, just kept two fingers pressed against the demon’s pathetically struggling tongue, until...Will felt the change. It was like ice water had replaced the blood in his veins, and he felt a chilling numbness course through his body, lessening the agony he felt in every fragment of his human form. The need for touch tormenting him was extinguished, the feverish sweating ceased, the pain from the belt subsiding to manageable levels. 

“Healing is not my forte. I need to _feel_ inside to heal inside, and I...wasn’t sure if you knew enough about the drugs to counteract them.” Will was floored; had Mason Gleeful just done something...kind? Selfless? Was he developing a conscience? Would this be the start of the end of his eternal torture? Would-

“Oh, stop it, Cipher, you’re embarrassing yourself,” Mason sneered, pulling his fingers out of Will’s mouth, “I got rid of the drug because I need you focused, and I didn’t think you could on your own.” Footsteps told Will that the magician was walking away from the bed. “Heal yourself, then come to the study,” Mason called as he opened the door. “I’ll give you a few moments.” Then the door closed, and the demon was left alone to rip off the blindfold and try to pull himself together again, cursing himself for believing in the tiny spark of hope he had felt. 

He should have known better.

Ten minutes later, Will found himself in front of the study’s doors, dressed and looking like he was ready for a show. He knew what was expected of him. When he knocked, Mason bid him enter in a toneless, uncaring drawl. Will stepped inside and closed the door, then approached the desk Mason was seated hesitantly.

“Tell me, Cipher,” the brunette began without looking up from the pages he was pouring over, “approximately how long will your portal open, and how long will it take you to reopen one back to here?” Will swallowed hard, feeling like a traitor without ever having met any of the inhabitants in the universe he was about to unleash his monstrous masters upon.

“W-well,” he stammered, then began feeding Mason the answers he requested as the magician planned for their excursion.


	5. 4

Several quiet days had passed since his dream with Bill, but Dipper couldn’t keep his mind off of it for long. He was scared, worried, more anxious than usual. Ford had been spending even _more_ time than usual locked in the basement, and Stan had been teaching Soos more of his grifter talents, and Dipper didn’t have any idea what to do with himself. He ended up doing what he’d always done when he felt overwhelmed; talking to his sister.

“Hey, Dipper!” Mabel exclaimed cheerfully when she picked up the phone on the first ring. “Miss you, bro-bro!” Dipper felt the knot in his chest loosen a fraction at simply hearing her voice.

“Hey Mabel. Good to hear from you. How’s school?” Dipper asked, and conversation flowed easily and quickly as they caught up. She told him about her classes, her projects, the new friends she’d made and the ones she kept in touch with. Then it was his turn, and he started with the dream about Bill. When he finished, Mabel was quiet for a moment; a rare occurrence.

“Oh man...well, Dippy, spring break’s coming up this weekend. Maybe I could come up and stay at the Shack for a little?” He let out a sigh of relief; he could always rely on his sister to come through when he was troubled. “We’ll figure out how to find him, and stop him before he can do anything else. We can do anything, remember?” He have a weak chuckle, but she was right; together they had done mighty deeds.

“Yeah, we’re unstoppable,” he laughed, and then the pair chatted for a little longer before Mabel said she had to leave for a class. After they’d disconnected, Dipper lay back on his bed, feeling more at peace...for about two minutes. There was a knock at his door.

“Dipper?” Ford called, and the brunette pushed himself up onto his elbows. “Can you come down to the lab with me? There’s something I think you should see.”

“Coming, Grunkle Ford,” he called, getting to his feet and heading to the door. He followed the man down the stairs all the past the vending-machine entrance and to the lab and portal room. He led them straight to the row of computer terminals and sat in front of a few that had several charts and video stills on them. Dipper leaned forward over his great-uncle’s shoulder interestedly, trying to see what was there, as the older of the two began talking.

“Ever since you told me about your visit from Bill, I’ve been tracking disturbances through the portal. I’ve noticed several oddities that I’m growing increasingly concerned about.” He pointed to one of the video stills, and played a clip of what appeared the be a glowing green circle that appeared, grew from the size of a dime to the size of a baseball, then quickly shrunk and disappeared again. Through the circle, colors that did not match the sky were visible, but that was about it. 

“Then, ten minutes later, there was this.” Ford continued. Another clip rolled, and this time the dime grew to almost dinner plate size before it snapped closed and disappeared. This time, the trees that would have been in the background of this video were replaced by a dark burgundy wall or curtain or something in the circle. Ford pointed at a chart on another screen.

“Those two were small blips, didn’t use much energy, and were close together. Nothing else happened for almost five hours. But then, this was near town square.” This clip showed a circle that quickly expanded to the size of a basketball. Instead of disappearing quickly, it remained for a few seconds, and there was some motion in front of the burgundy before the opening shrank rapidly and disappeared. Ford frowned up at Dipper over his shoulder. 

“Up til that point, I would guess that whoever or whatever was opening these rifts did not have the strength or power to open or maintain one of any real size for any period of time before it quickly drained them of their strength and power. It was two hours before this happened.” In this clip, when the portal appeared, it was already the size of a manhole cover. It easily expanded until it was roughly the size and shape of a door. And stayed there. 

The doorway revealed that the other side was a room. The burgundy was indeed a wall, on which there was part of a stone fireplace visible, and a glimpse of a dark wood floor and part of a very ornate piece of furniture. It stayed in place for about five minutes before a hand glowing with blue fire appeared, snapped its fingers, and then the portal shrank and disappeared. Ford was now deeply scowling as he turned away from the computers fully. 

“That was about ten hours ago, now. Dipper...I think we may need to be ready for a visitor.” His tone was grim, and his great-nephew knew what he was implying; they might be seeing Bill _very_ soon. The room began spinning before Ford’s hand came down on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll be ready. Let’s go get the others; I’ve got a plan.” 

As Dipper followed the man out of the lab, he was suddenly unsure of whether he wanted Mabel back _immediately_ or if he should call and ask his sister to stay very far away.


	6. 5

“I don’t like this,” Mabel Gleeful insisted with a frown. She had her arms crossed and was glaring at the other two occupants of their study. Mason was pouring over the journal, making sure there wasn’t last-minute clue as to exactly what dimension they should go to; Will was aiming for something that felt the opposite of their home, but he wasn’t sure if that would take them to the right Will. The original Will was standing behind Mason, looking exceptionally nervous. Good; he had every reason to be nervous.

The day before, the Gleeful twins had run some tests with Will, but the useless triangle hadn’t been able to make a decent sized portal no matter how much they... _encouraged_ him. Then he was drained and needed time to recover his power or whatever, so they discussed how they wanted to go about enhancing his abilities while he cowered at their feet, knowing he had disappointed them.

In an effort to regain some semblance of favor with them - or, as Mabel was more inclined to believe, to set up a trap for them - Will told Mason he could possess one of them and use their combined powers to open and close it. Mason wanted to try it; Mabel was more reserved. It would involve letting Will break several rules, and putting _trust_ into their pathetic servant.

For starters, they’d had Will take and keep mortal form to physically tie him to their plane of reality; in his triangle form, he could slip into the Mindscape at will. If they allowed him freedom to shift to possess Mason, then they’d have to force him back into a mortal body if he didn’t return of his own volition.

Then there was the ridiculous notion of allowing him to occupy Mason’s body. What if he decided he enjoyed experiencing _actual_ power and wanted to stay? She would have to find a way to rip him out of her brother’s body _without_ harming it. No part of this sounded good to her, but Mason had disagreed. And while Mabel got her way more often, Mason always got his way when it mattered.

So they’d run the test. They made Will shake on the deal that he would only inhabit Mason to close or open a portal at their request, and he would return to a mortal form permanently once the twins requested. Then Mason had allowed himself to be led from his body so that Will could take possession of it.

Will inside of Mason’s body was the funniest part of this whole endeavor, in Mabel’s opinion. Her normally pretty stoic and disinterestedly confident brother was suddenly cowering, nervous, and his eyes were the teary blue of William’s demon form, with slit pupils and hands nervously smoothing down any possible wrinkles in Mason’s outfit. That had Mabel chuckling, until apparently the real Mason had told Will to get on with it, because her brother’s body flinched, and then held out a hand hesitantly. Blue fire sprang up around it as Will made Mason’s body draw a circle in the air, which he then quickly expanded until it looked like a doorway. They were looking at some sort of forest, not unlike the ones in their town. They didn’t see anyone, and left it open for a while, as that had tired Will out before, but the portal held.

“Alright, Will, close it and get out of my brother,” Mabel dismissed, and ‘Mason’ jumped to obey. He snapped his fingers and the portal disappeared, and then her brother’s eyes closed before he dropped to the ground.

“S-sorry, I’m so sorry...” Will began murmuring in a distressed tone as soon as he appeared, in his mortal form as agreed. Mason groaned lightly as he stood and shot a glare towards where their demon was anxiously wringing his hands.

“Next time, wait for me to get to it _before_ you leave, Cipher, so I can catch myself before I hit the ground,” he snarled as he straightened out his suit. Will nodded quickly as Mason rolled his eyes and turned to Mabel. “This should work, dear sister. I propose we go and discuss our strategy for locating the other Will, and what we’ll do to get the locals to help. Then we all get some rest and head through in the morning.” Mabel had agreed, and the twins had left to scheme together.

Now it was time to go through with their plan, everything was ready, everything had gone well the previous evening, and yet...

“I don’t like this at _all,”_ Mabel repeated once more. Mason closed the journal with a snap and tucked it into his vest.

“Anything for the sake of world domination,” Mason quipped, moving towards where she was standing. He turned back to Will, frowning. “Remember not to let me fall this time,” he said, irritation clear in his voice. “And stay as a little triangle when we get there. I’ll tell you when you’re to take mortal form again, but I’d like to have you available as an example of what we seek.” Will nodded quickly, coming to where the pair were now waiting.

“Yes Sir,” he murmured, and Mason nodded tightly. Then Will was gone and Mason was a sniveling, pathetic mess. Mabel sighed.

“Let’s get going, then,” she huffed, and her brother squeezed his eyes shut and his hand flared with blue flame before he opened another portal. The view from this one was different; they were in the woods, but just ahead there was a clearing through which a wooden building was visible. Mabel shot a look at Mason, and Will flinched away from her stare.

“I-it’s the same place, just d-different,” he stammered out. “M-Master Mason s-says to go on.” Mabel threw up her hands and gestured for Will to take the lead; she was _not_ going to end up locked in some alternate universe while Will made off with Mason’s body. The demon scurried through the opening, and she followed closely behind him.

They emerged into the very peaceful-seeming forest. There were normal sounds of nature around them, with no trace of anyone else nearby. The building ahead seemed to be some sort of run-down shack, but there were a few cars parked outside it and several nearby signs that looked like attraction features. Mabel curiously inspected what she could see of it as she saw Will apparently responding to orders from Mason. He closed the portal with a snap, and then Mason dropped to his knee before he reclaimed his body and caught himself. The small, floating blue triangle demon popped into existence near his shoulder, looking worried, and Mason snorted.

“That was _better,_ at least,” he grumbled before waving his hand casually. Tiny blue, glowing shackles formed between the little demon’s wrists and draped down like a balloon string into Mason’s open hand. He tied the end of the chain around his own wrist and the chains seemed to evaporate, although Mabel knew they were just illusioned to be out of sight.

“Want to go see who’s at home, darling?” Mabel cooed, and then let loose a wickedly gleeful giggle as she took Mason’s arm and the pair headed towards the front of the shack, Will floating just behind Mason’s shoulder.

As soon as they walked around the side to the front of the building, they located the door on the front underneath a giant sign announcing the place as the ‘Mystery Shack.’ They were standing in front of it, Mason’s hand poised to knock, when it suddenly flew open and they were greeted by the last people in the world they were expecting. 

An imperfect mirror image of Mason, looking just like him except for the scruffy clothes, untidy hair, and brown eyes, stared at them in open mouthed shock. Behind him, two poor copies of their Great-Uncle Ford stood; one with an extremely odd hat and the other with a worn-looking overcoat.

“Who are _you_?” the copy of Mason asked, sounding stunned, while the older man in the coat crossed his arms and looked over the twins. Mabel saw his eyes widen and then linger on Will.

“I’d say these are alternate versions of you and your sister,” the man said, and when he spoke he sounded just like their Stanford, “and that they’ve figured out how to open a portal to a different dimension.” Mabel and Mason exchanged a glance before Mason smiled disarmingly and offered his hand.

“I’d say your guess is probably accurate. We came here seeking something; maybe you could help us?” Mabel couldn’t help but feel excited when the poorly-groomed versions of her family invited them inside; this was just too easy.


End file.
